


Occupational Hazard

by jujus_writing_corner



Series: Whumptober 2019 [4]
Category: Real Person Fiction, Youtube RPF
Genre: Blood, Gen, Gun Violence, Hostage Situations, Human shield, Minor Character Death, Rescue, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 13:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20893010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujus_writing_corner/pseuds/jujus_writing_corner
Summary: Silver Shepherd rescues civilians from a hostage situation, but it doesn't end as he planned.Whumptober Day 4: Human Shield





	Occupational Hazard

**Author's Note:**

> I love Silver, therefore, I must hurt him ;w;
> 
> Enjoy!

“What’s the situation, officer?” Silver Shepherd asks the police chief. There’s no shortage of cops to ask, but Silver wants to be certain of what he’s walking into. The bank is surrounded by police cars and ambulances, and a perimeter has been set up to keep away passerby. A crowd has gathered, though; filming on their phones and trying to figure out what’s happening.

“Armed robbery turned hostage situation,” the chief answers, “As far as we can tell from the 911 call logs, there’s three perps and seven civilians in there.” He pauses. “At least, there _were_ seven civilians. We have reason to believe that at least one person has already been killed.”

“Oh, no,” Silver gasps, “So these guys…they have nothing to lose, do they?”

“Not anymore, no. We’re waiting on SWAT but so far our attempts at negotiation haven’t gotten anywhere.” The chief sighs. “These guys want to walk away scot-free with the money they’ve stolen and won’t take no for an answer. We’d rather this not end in a shootout, and we don’t want to lose anymore civilians, so that’s where you come in.”

Silver takes in a breath and straightens his shoulders.

“Tell me what to do,” he says.

He ends up being sent to sneak in through the employee entrance at the back of the bank. The three gunmen are still in the front of the bank, as are the hostages, so Silver gets in easily. He traverses through the break room quietly, low to the ground. The closer he gets to the front the more he can hear the people there. Once he makes it to the back of the counter, he nearly yelps at the sight of the bank teller sprawled out on the ground, dead from a bullet in her head. Silver crawls past her through the blood, trying not to feel grossed out.

Finally, though, he reaches the edge of the counter, and peeks out to see the hostages and robbers. The robbers are shouting at each other, blaming each other for how sideways the situation has gotten. They’re across the room from the hostages, who are much closer to Silver, cowering against the counter in fear. There’s a family; mother, father, and little boy huddled together, as well as a young couple and an elderly woman. The young couple is closest to Silver, so he decides to get their attention first.

“Psst,” he whispers.

The pair look at him, and almost immediately do a double-take.

“You’re–” the woman gasps.

“Yeah,” Silver says. “Listen, there’s a plan to get you guys out of here.”

“What is it?” asks the man. By this point, the other people have noticed Silver, and are looking at him, too. The little boy, despite the tears streaking his face, looks positively starstruck. Silver would relish in it if the situation weren’t so severe.

“You guys can crawl around back here behind the counter,” Silver explains, “Same way I came in. The back door past the break room is open, and there’s police waiting there for you.”

“Wait,” interjects the mother, face white, “We have to go past…?” She points behind the counter, presumably at the dead teller.

“Yes,” Silver admits, “But there’s no other safe way out.”

“Won’t they notice?” the old woman asks, glancing at the three gunmen, still arguing.

“Most likely not,” Silver says, “The police are going to call them again in a minute, it should help keep them distracted. The fact that they haven’t noticed me yet is a good sign.”

Silver can tell from just a glance at these guys that they’re unsophisticated criminals. They didn’t go into this with a plan; they just got their hands on a few guns and thought they could get some easy money. Judging by the content of their argument, they don’t have a clue what they’re doing or how they’re going to get out of this situation. Added to that the strap barriers and pillars between them and the counter, and there’s a decent chance that Silver can usher out everyone without being spotted.

“Here’s what you’ll do,” Silver tells them, “You’ll crawl behind the counter, through the door to the back, and keep crawling through the break room until you exit the building and an officer meets you. You’ll come behind the counter single-file, one at a time, and we’ll wait a few moments between each person so we don’t attract too much attention. Once it’s your turn to go, don’t stop crawling, and no matter what happens, do _not_ stand up to run. Alright?”

Everyone nods, faces showing various states of fear.

“Alright.” Silver reaches out to the young woman. “You first, miss.”

The woman makes it behind the counter without trouble, though Silver can hear her whimper as she crawls through the bank teller’s blood. True to his word, he lets the young man follow her after a few moments, and he hears the gunmen take another call from the police. He keeps an eye on them as he ushers the old woman (crawling seems harder for her, but she does it as fast as she can) and the little boy (Silver flashes him a reassuring grin as he passes, and it seems to lift his spirits, at least a little) behind the counter and into the back.

Things start to fall apart as the mother starts her crawl.

Silver hears her slip slightly as she wades through the blood of the teller. She unconsciously slaps her hand down to keep from falling in it completely. The sound of her hand hitting the tile rings through the room in an echo, and the gunmen look up from their conversation with police.

“The hell?” one says.

The woman scrambles to get through the door. The man starts his own crawl, shaking.

“Hey!” Another gunman yells. He and the other three start running.

The man gives up on crawling. He stands to run. Silver’s heart sinks, but there’s no time to make him get back down. The gunmen approach fast, guns at the ready. The first shots fire loud. Silver throws himself in front of the man as he flees. Bullets punch into his chest.

“Dammit, they all got away!” a gunman yells.

All three try to rush behind the counter.

Even after being shot, Silver is faster, stronger. He knocks one out with a single punch, shoves another back. He pulls the gun from the third’s hands and cracks the two men standing over the head with it. Once they go down, Silver does, too.

He can feel the blood pulsing out under his suit, dying the spandex red. There’s three holes; Silver can feel them. They throb with each passing moment, and Silver can swear he can feel exactly how the bullets are situated in his tissue. His breath turns ragged as adrenaline leeches out of his system and the embers of pain become fire.

But if he strains his super-hearing, he can hear the police at the back door of the building, hear them commenting that all the hostages have escaped unharmed, hear them file in to help Silver.

Already, Silver’s vision is dark around the edges. He groans. He might not make it out, but the people are safe, and that’s all that matters. Granted, there’s a decent chance Roxy has heard about what’s going on, and will likely soon find out that Silver’s hurt.

Silver hopes she won’t be too mad at him as his consciousness fades.

**Author's Note:**

> Nice priorities, Silv -w-
> 
> I'll admit I wasn't as sure about this fic as the other prompts so far, but I hope you liked it anyway! ^w^


End file.
